


The Sounds of Malfoy Manor

by Chummy



Series: Sorrowful Notes, Bruised Knees, Baby You're my Favorite Melody. [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: I live for the idea of the Malfoy family being gifted in music, M/M, Scorpius plays the piano, and albus loves watching Scorpius hands when he plays bye, it's angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:29:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8061784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chummy/pseuds/Chummy
Summary: The Malfoy Manor is full of history and sounds. Most aching and sorrowful. Scorpius Malfoy changes that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Scorpius plays the goddamn piano like a pro fight me.

Malfoy manor is known to be the definition of class and status, with its grey marble walls, expensive rugs and ceiling to floor curtains it is a house that is only home to those of worthy blood. Just like any house there are sounds to go along with it. During the times of the First Wizarding war the house echoed with spells and plans of new ruling, afterwards the sounds of a child playing and mother cooing filled the much to big rooms and later gave way to the silent weeps of the white blonde child, the unanswered prayers of a mother and the mistakes of a prideful father crawled through the house like a snake. Engulfing them in the worst part of the war.

After Voldemort was defeated the Malfoy Family staggered back through the gardens surrounding their anything but humble home in hope of finding solace. They found it in different ways.

Narcissa Malfoy found it in the soft sounds of snoring emitting from her sons room, glad that he was sleeping again. Yet lost it all when he would wake up screaming.  
  
Draco Malfoy found it in silence. It was difficult to come by when a dark lord lives in your house. The silence of the dark hallways and untouched rooms calmed his ever pacing mind the slightest bit. The bags under his eyes were nothing compared to the baggage he carried with him ever since his mother had clasped his hand in hers and led him away from the war torn remains of Hogwarts.

Lucius didn't completely find it. Every sound made him eternally more paranoid, wand always at the ready.

The manor was like that for many years. Through all the court trials days. Until Draco and Astoria Malfoy inherited it and Scorpius Malfoy greeted the gold wallpaper with his small grabby hands.

Sounds of soft unbalanced feet on hardwood floors echoed around the mansion. Scorpius soft laughter at the silly faces his mother would pull and the occasional cries that every child makes.

It was music to Draco's ears. He liked it as much as the actual music that floated throughout the house frequently.

The manor held many antiques and valuables. All from Lucius collections now just are collecting dust. One that had been collecting dust since the start of the war was the grand piano in his mothers drawing room. She had taught Draco to play on bleak days were it was too rainy outside to do anything else. He played when he was supposed to entertain house guests, showing how skilled the Malfoy family is. Draco hadn't played in a very long time.

So the sounds of music came from his wife. At the rediscovery of the piano Astoria decided to fill the gigantic house with music.  
Also classically trained she could play symphony after symphony. Although not truly gifted at magic she proved otherwise whenever she played.

Scorpius would sit unbalanced on his mothers lap as she played and sang softly. The eventual wrong note ringing out when Scorpius would get curious and slam one chubby hand on the keys.

When Scorpius grew older and Astoria grew sick, he asked Draco to teach him how to play. The lessons were always in the warm light of the afternoon landing brightly on the white blonde hair they shared. When Scorpius missed a note Draco would chuckle and place his own hand over his sons and play the melody. When Scorpius missed the same note continuously Astoria would come in laughing, joking about the amateur concerto.

Scorpius loved playing for her. She let him play and she followed along her voice was sweet and high. On slow Sunday afternoons with the soft rain pattering on the window yet the sun still shone through the window they would play together, Scorpius playing and her singing. Draco upstairs in his office listening full heartedly, sometimes with tears in his eyes.

When the skin under Astoria eyes became dark while the rest of her grew pale and thin Scorpius continued playing for her. He played in the dark, curtains drawn because the light hurt her eyes, he closed his eyes as well but needing to look at the keys anymore. She would muster up enough energy to tell him how good he had gotten and Scorpius would smile. Ignoring how different his mother sounded and how she could barely get out of bed. Draco felt relief with every note that rang out, it was hope that things could go back to the way it was.

Scorpius played the piano for hours after her funeral. The sounds echoing off the now too empty halls, he played hard. Smashing his fingers on the keys, trying to fill the emptiness in his heart. He played in the dark pretending that his mother was still there. Holding on. He continued playing even when his tears soaked his hands, they felt like a blessing on his aching fevered fingers. The tearful concerto finished with a soft lullaby, the first song Draco taught him. He couldn't cry anymore even though he wants too. He has no more tears to spare. Scorpius feels his fathers hands on his and numbly tries to fight back when Draco tries to take him off the piano bench.

Incoherent mumbles and cries left his lips, he felt that if he stood up from that chair it would all become real. No longer having music sheets and notes to shield him from the pain.

He cried dryly into Draco's suit, the tips of his bruised fingers tightening around the fabric of the expensive shirt. His fathers hands awkwardly soothing through his hair, not knowing how to deal with the truth, not knowing how to make it all better.

Draco knows what Astoria would've done, smile tell a bad joke and wipe away Scorpius tears telling him it would all be alright.

But Draco is Draco.

Instead he holds his son, anchoring him as waves of sorrow threaten to take them away. Draco prays that he is enough to can keep them afloat.

As they both sat there, murky clouds over them and the familiar tune of the lullaby still in their heads, Scorpius began to sing. It was a low and raspy sound from crying and heart breaking but he sang, the words his mother sang to him so many times. Draco followed along.

That night they didn't sleep, nor the night after. And when the night got too suffocating and the suffering too much they would remember the sweet nothing Astoria would sing and the pain would lighten.

Just a bit.

Scorpius hadn't played the piano since that day, Draco always thinks of giving it away seeming as it had no use in their home anymore, nothing more than a reminder of their loss.

But he never dares brings it up to Scorpius.

Until the day Albus comes over. Draco agreed to letting him visit over the holidays and Scorpius going to visit the potters as well after a rather awkward conversation in the Potters kitchen.

Draco, in the depth of his soul was glad at the new friendship that was forming between him and Harry. Things were better.

Albus showed up wide eyed at the size of the Malfoy house and the many valuable items that embellished it. The house filled with the conversation between Albus and Draco as Scorpius finished getting ready upstairs. He had spent almost two hours trying to find something "casual" to wear and would stick up his nose at everything Draco would pick.

"Casual dad!" Scorpius shook his head and fidgeted even more in his closet.

"This _is_ casual Scorp."

"There is nothing casual about a silk shirt with diamond cufflinks!" Scorpius shoot back.

Draco found himself smiling at the things Albus would say, he could see why Scorpius liked him. He left them alone to wander around the house. He heard the sounds of their footsteps and laughter all around the house. It was refreshing to hear Scorpius laugh again.

But two hours later the house went quiet. He figured the boys had gone outside but then he heard the sound of the piano.

Out of tune notes from not being played but still played beautifully. His own rushed footsteps sounded across the halls into the room. Met with the sight of Albus leaning on the piano top watching as Scorpius played.

Scorpius's face was a mix of emotions, some sad, some frustrated at the sour notes he couldn't seem to miss but mainly he blushed. Embarrassed to be watched the way Albus was watching, with as much attention as if every note was a cup of water and he hadn't drank in years.

Draco watched and heard the similar melodies, watched as his sons face changed from one of mourning to almost lightness. He played the piano softly and carefully. Rapidly becoming immersed in the keys and the sharp sound. Draco smiled as Albus took a seat next to him, still looking enamored at Scorpius hands, smiling.

It was obvious Albus was dying to praise Scorpius, Comments of approval at the tip of his tongue but he stayed silent, not wanting to break Scorpius concentration. Only listening.

After that day Scorpius played more often, the house felt warmer when he did, Draco listened full heatedly and when Scorpius asked him to teach him another song he did.

It was usually a song Albus had requested the day before that Scorpius wasn't sure how to play.

The anniversary of his mothers death they visited the grave and cried. As they stood over the gravestone they sang again, slowly and sadly. But not as broken as before.

"She'd be glad you're playing again" Draco told him, knowing it was true. Scorpius smiled fully at that. "Thanks dad." And they went home where that night they took turns playing the piano, filling the house with music and warmth, until they fell asleep, a bit more peaceful than the year before.


End file.
